


Warmth

by Yamx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamx/pseuds/Yamx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He definitely didn't take companions anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sahiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Warmth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646805) by [Alka12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alka12/pseuds/Alka12)



> Written for Sahiya--Happy Holidays!

"Ow! Bit of a rough landing, sorry about–" The Doctor's mouth snapped shut as he looked around the empty control room. Right. No companions. He didn't do companions anymore. Not after Donna.

He should have stopped after Rose. Or after Martha. He didn't get her killed, but look at what happened to her and her family—what they would have to remember. At the very latest, Astrid should have been proof, if he'd needed any more, that being with him meant doom. But no, he had to take Donna along—vibrant, brilliant Donna—and...

He definitely didn't do companions anymore.

Besides, it wasn't like he _needed_ a companion. Course not. He was perfectly capable of making his own fun. Like today. He was going to go to the Paris Opera's 1697 premiere of _L'Europe galante_. He deserved a nice break after spending all week installing the new emergency homing responder.

He threw open the TARDIS doors, stepped outside, and stopped. Instead of the irregular cobblestone of 17th century Paris, there was a soft dirt road winding through trees. The sun shone down, much too warm for France in late October. It filtered through the trees and reflected off a merry little brook entirely unlike the Seine.

The Doctor turned back to the TARDIS and raised an eyebrow.

The doors closed.

"Tsk. Now that's just rude." But he turned and started walking along the path.

It was a very pleasant day, really. Birds were singing, a fresh breeze carried myriad wildflower scents, and rabbits and squirrels were positively frolicking through the forest. It was almost... Disney.

He spotted a little girl sitting by the wayside. She was wearing a bright green dress that screamed "Sunday's best," and her long blond hair hung down in two braids tied with little red bows. "Hello!" he greeted her, smiling widely. "I'm the Doctor."

She jumped up and waved. "Hello!" She snatched up a covered basket that was sitting on the grass and ran towards him. "I'm Annie."

"Nice to meet you, Annie." He held out his hand.

She shook it earnestly. "Are you going to the festival, too?"

"Hmm? Oh, I suppose so! I love festivals!" He smiled. This might turn out to be more fun than the stuffy old opera, after all.

"Me, too! I've gone to twelve already!" she said with a proud smile.

"Twelve, really? Oh, you're a veritable expert on festivals then! Maybe you can show me around, Annie?"

She nodded. "Yes. But we need to get going. It's going to start soon." She put her free hand in his and started dragging him down the path. He swallowed hard, curled his fingers around hers, and followed.

"So... are your parents not coming?" She seemed no older than six.

"Not this time. Elsie's about to calf and Mommy's too large with the new baby. But Daddy said I shouldn't miss it, 'cause the Reverend says festivals are spr... spi... sprutial nerishmint."

The Doctor nodded gravely. "Quite right! A good festival is balm for the soul." He noticed she seemed to be having some trouble with the basket. "Need any help carrying that?"

"No! I can do it! I'm big!"

"Oh, of course. Obviously. My mistake."

Her voice dropped, and she whispered conspiratorially, "It's only half a pint of oil this time. There's been so many festivals lately, Mommy says it's all we can spare." She looked up at him imploringly. "Do you think it'll be okay?"

"Half a pint of oil? Oh, I'm sure that will be sufficient! Brilliant, even."

She nodded. "I'm bringing wood for Daddy, too!"

"Well, there you go then." He suppressed the urge to pat her head.

She smiled and hurried on, obviously relieved.

As they walked on, several smaller footpaths started merging into the forest road they were on, and soon other festival-goers joined them. Most of the men were carrying bundles of wood, and most of the women had amphorae of, presumably, oil. Some kind of light festival, the Doctor suspected. He wondered if he should gather up some wood – he didn't have money to buy any – but Annie was dragging him on with determination.

Well, it was a festival. Surely no one would berate a stranger for not bringing anything. Spirit of generosity and all.

A big, burly man caught up with them. "Hello, Annie." He smiled at the little girl, then sent the Doctor a probing stare. "Who's your friend?"

"He's a doctor!" Annie said excitedly. "I met him by the dog stone."

"A doctor, huh?" The man held out his hand. "Tom Brevis. Blacksmith. We don't get many traveling doctors 'round these parts."

The Doctor returned the smile and the handshake. "Oh, I travel all over the place."

"So, going to the festival?" Tom asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Annie was kind enough to invite me. I'm afraid I didn't bring any wood..."

Tom shrugged his broad shoulders. "No reason to worry. There'll be plenty of fuel for the bonfire."

"A bonfire? Oh, brilliant! I love bonfires!"

By the time they reached the first houses of the village, there were several dozen people in their group. By the time they reached the village square, the Doctor estimated almost two hundred.

A tall stack of wood sat in the middle of the square. Villagers kept adding to it – the men by building it higher, and the women by pouring oil on the wood. In the middle stood a sturdy pole covered with bushels of dried herbs. The Doctor couldn't quite make them out from this distance, but he suspected they were there for their scent.

"Lisa!" Tom waved to a tall woman carrying a tray of pastries. She came closer.

"Look whom little Annie found in the woods. This is Doctor..." Tom stopped and looked at him.

He grinned. "Just 'the Doctor.' I was traveling in the area and Annie invited me to your festival."

"A doctor? Oh, praise be! Will you have a look at my husband's bad leg after the festival? He got it mangled by a badger spring last, and the wound just won't heal up right."

The Doctor wrinkled his nose at the mental image. "Glad to help."

"Here, Lisa, why don't you get the doctor some pastries and a drink while Annie and I go stoke the bonfire?"

"Sure will." She smiled and offered the Doctor her tray. He picked a crescent-shaped pastry smelling of strong cheese and bit into it heartily. "Oh, this is good! Really good!"

Annie smiled. "Festival food's the best." She looked at Lisa. "Can I buy an apple pocket? Mommy gave me a coin!"

Lisa smiled. "Of course, honey, but the apple ones aren't done yet. You'll have to buy it after."

Tom chuckled at the disappointment on the child's face. "You need to help stoke the fire first, anyway. Duty before pleasure."

Annie nodded eagerly and followed Tom as he shouldered his way through the crowd towards the wood stack.

"Come with me, sir." Lisa smiled. "I'll get you some cider. Mine's the best in the village, everyone says."

"Oh, I'm convinced it is!" The Doctor grinned and followed her. Home-brewed cider. So much better than that bottled stuff Jackie Tyler liked.

When Annie rejoined him, the Doctor was sitting on a bench under an apple tree, cider in hand and a plate of pastries beside him, happily watching the hustle and bustle. Occasionally, villagers would come up to him and ask medical advice, which he'd gladly dispense, always careful not to go beyond their apparent technology level. He'd been offered various sums and livestock to look at ailing spouses, parents, and even cows. To his own surprise, he'd cheerfully promised to take care of them all after the festival. Maybe the cider was stronger than he realized—but he thought it was mostly the atmosphere of joyful celebration that made it impossible for him to turn any of them down. Brilliant people, one and all.

"So, Annie, when will they light the bonfire?" he asked with a smile.

"Not till after the reading," Annie said importantly. "First the Reverend does the reading, then they bring out the drums, and then comes the fire." She bounced on her seat. "Last time it burned till after dark. The flames were so high, mommy said she could see it all the way from our farm!"

"Impressive!" The Doctor nodded. "Quite a good bonfire, then." He crossed his arms behind his head. "Mind, not as big as the Claustxoris' New Year's fire. They clear a whole moon to—"

"Shhhh!" Annie hushed. "The Reverend!" She stood on the bench to get a better view. The Doctor followed her example.

A tall man in bright red robes was approaching the bonfire. The Doctor saw Tom and another broad-shouldered man carry a sturdy table from a nearby building and position it in front of the woodpile. Tom offered the Reverend his shoulder for support, but the elderly man leaped up nimbly. He looked around the crowd with a warm smile.

"My dear brothers and sisters, I'm glad to see so many of you have come here today. I know it's not easy for you to leave your animals, your fields, or your businesses again so soon after the last festival, but the importance of these occasions can't be overestimated." He raised his arms as if to hug the entire crowd. "More than any other event, even the Midwinter Worship, festivals strengthen us in our faith and our righteousness. They are more than just an occasion to get together with our fellow believers—and have some tasty pastries and some of Lisa's wonderful cider."

A wave of chuckles rolled through the congregation. The Reverend stood up tall. "Yes, brothers and sister, festivals are more than companionship and food. They purge us of sin! They are spiritual nourishment!"

"See?" Annie whispered urgently. "Told you!"

The Doctor smiled indulgently. It was a nice little sermon, and clearly the Reverend cared about his congregation and wanted to build a strong community. The Doctor hoped he'd finish soon, though.

The Reverend raised his hands. "Well then, without further ado—" the Doctor grinned "—bring out the witch!"

"What? Which witch?" A loud drumbeat started up to the north. "What?" The Doctor turned to Annie. "A witch?"

Annie cocked her head. "Well, of course a witch! What did you think the festival was for? It's for porking us of sin!"

"Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no!" The Doctor started to shove his way through the dense crowd. The bright smiles that had warmed him so much just minutes ago now seemed sinister and leering. "Wait! Stop! You can't!"

He reached the wood pile at the same time as a small group consisting of four drummers, a tall man with a hood over his head, and four armed guards. The Reverend was raising his hands in blessing when the Doctor threw himself between the group and the woodpile. "Stop!"

The drummers stopped and looked to the Reverend, who in turn looked at the Doctor. "I don't think I've seen you here before, my child."

"I'm the Doctor, and I'm not going to let you do this!" He saw the "witch" stand up straight, his head turning towards him. The guards reached for their swords.

"Stay your weapons," the Reverend said. "It's all right." He turned to the Doctor. "I understand. A doctor. Sworn to preserve life, in all its forms. This must be hard for you. But my child, we cannot allow evil to thrive—"

"There is no 'evil'!" He gestured wildly. "Witches aren't real!"

The Reverend smiled patronizingly. "Then what would you call a man who breaks his neck and lives on? And lives on again when run through? You, more than anyone, must know that such feats are not of human origin. Only the cleansing fire of God can eradicate such evil!"

"What? _What?_ " Through the adrenaline rush, he became aware of something tugging on his time sense. "Oh bloody hell." He dodged two guards to get to the accused and tore the bag off his head.

Blue eyes stared at him from a very familiar face. Jack shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes imploring. His lips formed a silent _Don't_.

"This man's not a witch! He's just Jack. Jackity-Jack-Jack! He's no danger!"

He heard Jack mutter a curse under his breath.

The Reverend's eyes hardened. "You know this man?"

"Of course! And he's—" At a gesture from the Reverend, two guards seized his arms. "Oi!"

"Doctor, I'm going to overlook your impertinence out of respect for your profession. But I advise you to keep quiet now." He pointed at the remaining guards. "Proceed."

They dragged Jack, who didn't resist, up the woodpile, and tied him to the stake, ignoring the Doctor's increasingly frantic entreaties.

"No! Listen, you can't do this! He's not—"

"Silence! Or you will share his fate! The righteous deplore evil, only the wicked would defend it." He gestured to the crowd. "Bring the holy flame."

Tom—good, reliable, hard-working Tom—approached the wood pile with a torch.

The drummers took up again.

"Has this torch been lit from the eternal flame on the altar?"

"Yes, Reverend, it surely has," Tom said solemnly. The crowd cheered.

"Has it been carried around the village thrice?"

"Yes, Reverend, it surely has." More cheering.

"Has it been prayed over by the village Elders?"

"Yes, Reverend, it surely has." The Doctor saw a group of elderly men and women near the front of the crowd nod along with Tom.

The rest of the village was starting to chant. "Burn and cleanse! Burn and cleanse! Burn and cleanse!" Heartbroken, the Doctor noticed little Annie hopping up and down on her bench, chanting with the others. Lisa was by her side, cheering.

The Reverend pointed at the stack."Do now thy godly task! Burn and cleanse!"

Tom threw the torch on the pile. In an instant, it burst into flames. The villagers had done their religious duty well, bringing only dry and well-stored wood to the festival and drenching it with oil thoroughly. The heat was instantaneous. There was a strangled scream from Jack, immediately drowned out by frantic coughs.

***

Jack was fighting for air, but there was little to be had, and what there was was hot and acrid. Fuck, he hated being burned.

At least there was hope that the Doctor would collect his body after and get him out of here. He really didn’t want to find out what would happen if the villagers realized that even their "cleansing flames" couldn't kill this witch. If only the Doctor was smart enough to stand by and wait till he—

Through the flames, he saw a figure scrambling up the side of the wood pile. "Doctor! No!"

The Doctor fought his way through the flames till he was leaning against Jack. Jack could see his suit was singed and getting darker in several spots. "Doc— Doctor, no. We'll—" He coughed. "No point in you dying. Just collect— my— body."

"No." The Doctor fumbled with his screwdriver. "I'm not letting you die like this." He had to shout to be heard over the crackling of the flames. "Besides, who knows what they'll do with your body?"

He activated the screwdriver, but dropped it as his sleeve burst into flames.

 _What are you doing, you idiot?_ Jack sobbed. _Now we're both going to—_

A sound of grating metal filled the air. Jack looked up. It couldn't be.

Through the flames, he could barely make out the cheering faces of the crowd—but they were overlayed by an orange light not from the fire, and slowly coral struts and roundels became more and more solid.

But the flames were too hot, and he could not hold back the screams any longer. The last thing Jack saw before he lost consciousness was the Doctor's face distorted with agony as he fell towards Jack.

***

The Doctor woke up with a splitting headache. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the medbay ceiling. Well, that was convenient. He definitely needed to be in medbay.

He raised his head and looked at himself. He was covered in a thick layer of restorative ointment... and absolutely nothing else. Oh. Well, the ointment numbed the pain all over his body to a dull throb, and he had to admit clothing, or even a blanket, would only interfere with the healing right now.

Jack was sitting by the foot of his bed, his arms folded next to the Doctor's knees, and his head resting on them. He was snoring gently.

The Doctor couldn't help himself. He smiled. "Hello there."

Jack shot upright. For a moment, he looked around with wild eyes, then his gaze found the Doctor's and he calmed. "Hello yourself."

Taking in Jack's torn and singed clothing, the Doctor frowned and tried to sit up.

"Hey, don't!" Jack stood and put a hand on his shoulder. "Rest."

"Can't. Have to look after your wounds." So typical of Jack to take care of him and neglect himself. If the Doctor'd had more energy, he'd have scolded.

"Hush, it's okay, I'm not hurt."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, unwilling to dignify that with an answer.

"No, really, look." He pushed open his coat and shirt, revealing unmarked, smooth skin.

It took the Doctor a second to understand. He gasped. "You died!" It came out sounding almost like an accusation. Bugger, he hadn't meant it that way.

Jack looked away. "Well, yeah. Just after the TARDIS turned up. Smoke inhalation, probably." He turned and looked straight at the Doctor. "But now I'm _fine_."

The Doctor sighed and held out his hand to Jack. Jack seemed surprised, but took it, and the Doctor squeezed his gently. "I'm so sorry, Jack. I wanted to spare you that."

Jack shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't—!" He sputtered. How could Jack say such a thing? His deaths weren't unimportant just because they were—well, plural. "It _does_ matter, you hear? It matters so, so much!"

Jack's face softened. "Does it?"

The Doctor sighed and tugged Jack closer. Death and suffering always mattered, couldn't Jack see that? "Of course it does, you silly ape." He saw Jack smile at the old insult.

The Doctor rubbed his forehead, smearing ointment into his hair. "I never would have thought... I _liked_ them!"

Jack's eyes dulled. "Yeah. I did, too. For a while, I though I might settle with them for a decade or so."

The Doctor frowned. "Had you been there long?"

"Nah. Just a few weeks. I arrived shortly after the last 'festival.' All the time I was there, people kept telling me to look forward to the next, that I'd love it, that everyone always had a great time, wonderful food, music, dancing..."

The Doctor pushed himself upright over Jack's protests. He couldn't have this conversation lying down. "No one ever mentioned the cold-blooded murder?"

"Nope. Well, they did speak of the 'cleansing,' but, you know, I thought it was just—chasing away evil spirits, lighting the flame of hope, that sort of thing."

The Doctor nodded. "The usual."

"Yeah." Jack nodded. "And then one day I was helping Bill Mayers fix his barn roof, and I slipped. Next thing I knew, I woke up surrounded by my 'friends'—and they panicked. Bill ran me through with his pitchfork."

The Doctor winced. "Oh, Jack." He put a hand on his shoulder.

Jack shrugged. "Not the first time I've woken up on death row. Expect it won't be the last. Or second-to-last, or..." He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Joys of immortality, huh?"

The Doctor smiled back, knowing his eyes remained dark, too.

"How'd you do that, anyway? Make the TARDIS come to us?" Jack pulled the sonic screwdriver from a pocket and handed it to the Doctor. "I assume it had something to do with this. You dropped it."

The Doctor took the screwdriver, moved to pocket it, and remembered he wasn't wearing anything. He fumbled awkwardly with it it for a moment, then he put it down next to him on the bed. To hide his embarrassment, he started gesticulating effusively. "It's my new emergency homing responder! I just finished installing it this morning!"

Jack grinned. "Let me guess—it homes in on the screwdriver?"

"Yep! And the TARDIS comes to pick up me, it, and anyone I'm touching." He beamed proudly.

Jack looked suitably impressed. "That's a neat trick. Should get you out of all kinds of scrapes."

The Doctor nodded, pleased. "I can show you the circuits later." Jack was about the only person he knew who'd be able to properly appreciate the simple elegance.

"I'd like that." Jack smiled. "And if you don't mind, can I get myself some new clothes from the wardrobe room before you drop me off?" He gestured at his singed and tattered outfit. "Not the best way to make a first impression."

The Doctor blinked. He hadn't thought of Jack leaving. Having him here, helping him and admiring his cleverness, had seemed so natural he hadn't even questioned it.

Jack cocked his head. "If it's a problem, I'm sure I can—"

"No! No, of course not! Take as much as you like. Take a suitcase, too!" The Doctor gulped. "Or a bedroom."

Jack stopped. "What?"

"I just thought... well, if you wanted to..." He was surprised at how fervently he was hoping for a yes.

"Won't your companion mind? Where is she, by the way? Visiting family?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No companion. I don't do that anymore."

"I heard about Donna." Jack looked at him for a long time. Then he nodded. "You're tired of losing them."

"Yes!" Tired didn't even begin to describe it. All his companions, dozens, each so brilliant, and each burned out and faded so quickly.

"But you're tired of traveling on your own, too."

The Doctor hesitated. He didn't need anyone. Of course not. Only... He remembered how he'd felt in the village, before he'd found out what the festival really was. How much he'd enjoyed the company of the people, simply because he was starved for companionship. He had invested far too much emotion in those strangers, and then the truth had felt like a personal betrayal.

He looked at Jack and nodded. After today, the thought of traveling alone again seemed unspeakably depressing.

"So what am I then?" Jack's voice sounded brittle. "The convenient solution?"

"No! Well, yes, but... but no!" He gestured back and forth between them. "You're Jack. You're my friend." Clearly, he'd done a terrible job showing him that. But surely jumping onto a burning pyre for him must mean something? Only Jack knew damn well the Doctor would do that for anyone.

The Doctor took a deep breath and made his offer explicit. "And, if you want, you can be my companion again." He felt himself tense, torn between bracing for rejection and hoping it wouldn't come.

"For how long?" Jack sounded hesitant.

"As long as you want."

There was shadow of doubt in Jack's eyes. "You said that once before."

The Doctor sobered. "And then I abandoned you."

"'Busy life, moving on.'" Jack stared at his feet.

The Doctor flinched. Jack quoting his own words back at him burned worse than the flames had. How could he have been so callous? "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Jack didn't look up. "It's all right."

The Doctor cupped Jack's chin and forced the other man to look at him. "It's not all right. There's nothing I can say that will make it all right. But I promise you, Jack: I will never abandon you again."

Jack cocked his head. "What if it's between me and the universe?"

The Doctor sucked in air through his teeth. "Well, if it's between you and the universe... Or even between you and a planet, I suppose..." Oh, hell. For a moment he'd really thought Jack would come with him. "I'm sorry." He looked away.

Jack chuckled. "Offer accepted."

The Doctor looked back at him, startled. "After I just said I may have to abandon you again?"

Jack shrugged. "At least I know you're being honest."

The Doctor felt the reproach in the words, but saw the forgiveness in the smile. He grinned widely. Jack was going to stay!

"So, any room I like?"

"Yep," the Doctor said, popping the 'p' with gusto. "Up to you! Take your pick."

The Doctor had to admit he had only himself to blame when he found Jack in his bed that night.

An hour later, Jack had convinced him he didn't really mind.

And by morning, the Doctor'd decided it was actually quite brilliant.

The End


End file.
